


He's Not Here

by MaxMattel666



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Family Feels, Found Family, Goshiki is Baby, Grief/Mourning, Gun Violence, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, I am so sorry, M/M, Mafia AU, Minor Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi, Rated For Violence, Sharing Clothes, hinted koganegawa kenji/Goshiki tsutomu, ushijima wakatoshi and tendou satori are goshiki tsutomu's parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:21:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24620779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxMattel666/pseuds/MaxMattel666
Summary: When Goshiki dies, he leaves an unfillable hole in his wake. His absence takes the form of an empty chair at the dining room table and uneaten ice cream. He leaves behind unfinished lists and shoes that he was supposed to fill.A mafia AU where Shiratorizawa loses its youngest member.!!!Now featuring accompanying art!!!
Relationships: Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 31
Kudos: 272





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [handsonmyeyes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/handsonmyeyes/gifts).



> So this is based solely off of one TikTok (https://vm.tiktok.com/ojnjNX/) by emotionally_versatile (go check out their stuff!!) plus mine and my best friend’s headcanons. 
> 
> Also @marsenthusiast wrote a wonderful follow up to this fic called “ Sugawara is Always Worried, but It's Always Justified”, please check it out! 
> 
> I don’t go into great detail with the actual mafia au background/details because this fic is more focused on the found family dynamic between UshiTen and Goshiki. But, for context in this AU all the major teams from Haikyuu!! have become mafias and this fic is set about six years post canon. Also for those not familiar with Yakuza tattoo traditions, new members get the outlines of thehir tattoos done and then when they’re fully inducted they get them filled in with colour.
> 
> For some fluff after this fic go read my other UshiTen fic, Waiting On A Friend, it’s very sweet lol.  
> If you enjoy it, please leave a comment! I hope you all are staying healthy and safe. Check out the links on my profile for information and resources regarding BLM protests.

When Goshiki dies, he leaves an unfillable hole in his wake. His absence takes the form of an empty chair at the dining room table and uneaten ice cream. He leaves behind unfinished lists and shoes that he was supposed to fill.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Something is wrong, Ushijima could tell from the moment he stepped into the building. He hadn’t been expecting a stand off. He had come to the abandoned building by the pier as per usual for a simple meetup with the leader of Wakutani South. The two gangs had come together peacefully often enough that when Wakutani South’s leader, Nakashima, pulled a gun on him, Ushijima was taken by surprise. What Ushijima had expected was a casual exchange of information regarding the recent movements of Aoba Johsai for a predetermined lump sum of money. What he hadn’t expected was to be betrayed by an ally, and that his prodigy would be the one to take the brunt of said betrayal in the form of a bullet to the chest.

It happens so fast, there’s shouting and then the sharp sound of a gun firing.

“Naruko, do it!” Nakashima yells at Wakutani South’s youngest member.

It’s all a blur until suddenly, Ushijima feels something warm and hard hit against his side. Another body? Ushijima feels a panic rise in his chest as he recognizes who’s crashed into him. Goshiki. Goshiki, who Ushijima thought was at home, who should be at home, is body slamming his mentor out of the way as shots are being fired at them. Goshiki, who Ushijima had inspired and looked after for the last six years, who had eagerly made the leap from volleyball player to gang member with unrivaled enthusiasm, and who would do anything to be Shiratorizawa’s ace.

There’s an echo of voices from Wakutani South and Ushijima vaguely registers Nakashima cursing, yelling for a retreat, but it’s like the sound of the gunshot has blown out Ushijima’s eardrums and everything sounds like it’s underwater. He hears Goshiki cry out in pain, and it’s like the world turns in slow motion. His brain hasn’t even processed that Goshiki is there with him, let alone the fact that he’s bleeding out.

Ushijima was sure he had come alone, he had told the other members of Shiratorizawa to stay behind and that backup was not required. Tendou had been sent on his first solo mission and was due to come home that evening. He had trusted Ushijima to watch over their protégé, but somehow, Goshiki must have followed him. He was so sure that he had double checked he wasn’t being followed, he was so sure. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

“Goshiki, Goshiki!” Ushijima yells as he sees the younger boy’s body drop and crumple like a rag doll. Goshiki hits the ground with a sickening thud, his limbs outstretched oddly and face contorted in pain.

Ushijima dives towards him, falling to his knees and quickly putting pressure on the bulletwound. There’s the sound of scurrying feet, probably the other gang retreating, but Ushijima can’t even remember that there are other people in the room, nor that they had just tried to kill him for some unknown reason. None of it mattered, all he can see is the blood pooling in Goshiki’s mouth as he twists his fingers into the fabric of Ushijima’s dress shirt.

“Tendou is going to kick my ass when we get home,” Goshiki laughs weakly. Ushijima doesn’t smile at the joke and instead presses his forehead against Goshiki’s as he clutches the younger boy so tightly his knuckles turn white.

“Why did you follow me?” Ushijima asks as he continues to apply pressure on the bulletwound. He feels confused and afraid. Goshiki had waved him off with a smile not more than an hour ago. The younger boy had always been overeager and would constantly beg Tendou to let him go on missions, even though he was still so new to the mob scene. The tattoos on Goshiki’s body were only a few months old, far from being able to be filled in with colour.

“I’m sorry I couldn't be a good enough ace,” Goshiki forces through a smile. There’s blood leaking out of his mouth and his skin gets more pale with every breath.

“Stay with me, Tsutomu, we have to get home and see Tendou, okay? Just take deep breaths, I have you,” Ushijima tries to keep his voice even and soothing so as not to send his young protégé into shock.

He has one hand pressing down on the bullet wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding, and the other around Goshiki’s back as he’s half pulled into his captain’s lap. The smaller boy's eyes threaten to slide closed, but Ushijima shakes him. “Tsutomu? Tsutomu!”

Goshiki lets out a little whimper as his tight grasp on Ushijima’s shirt loosens. “Tsutomu!”

Ushijima’s voice cracks and he pulls his bloodied hand away from Goshiki’s chest to cradle the boy’s face, “Tsutomu…” he chokes out.

Goshiki manages one last weak breath before falling limp against Ushijima’s torso. The world falls away and Ushijima feels like he’s the one who’s been shot through the chest. Ushijima runs his thumb gently across Goshiki’s cheek, hoping for the flutter of eyelashes or a soft turn into his touch, but no such reaction occurs. He pulls his head up and stares at the ceiling. He grits his teeth and screws his eyes shut as he shakes his head.

Ushijima cursed himself that he should have known Goshiki would follow him, the younger boy had always been so eager to follow in Ushijima’s footsteps. Ever since they had first met in high school, Goshiki had aspired to be like his then-captain. Usually Tendou was the one who could tame Goshiki’s overeager attitude, but Tendou was away on a solo mission, one that Ushijima has sent him on. If only he had made Tendou stay, if only he had come to this meeting armed, if only he had triple checked to make sure he wasn’t being trailed, if only he had asked another Shiratorizawa member to keep an eye on their youngest recruit. If only he had done something else, anything else.

Ushijima lowers his head and uses his hand to brush Goshiki’s disheveled bangs back into place. They’re a little bit too long; Tendou was supposed to cut them when he got home later that day. The image causes Ushijima to bite down on the inside of his cheek; he doesn’t want to think about it.

Ushijima pulls his suit jacket off and wraps it around Goshiki. The shoulders of the jacket dwarf the smaller boy, and if Goshiki were alive and Tendou were there, the redhead would most certainly make a joke about Goshiki looking like a little kid trying on their father’s clothes. The thought of Tendou’s endearing way of teasing and the embarrassed flush that would spread across Goshiki’s cheeks makes Ushijima wince. Tendou probably would have told Goshiki that he looked great, albeit a little silly, and Goshiki would have practically beamed, but that’s not going to happen because the Goshiki in Ushijima’s suit jacket is dead and Tendou’s in another town. This isn’t how things are supposed to go.

Ushijima calls Saito Akira, Shiratorizawa’s old assistant coach turned ‘private janitor’. Essentially, he cleans up crime scenes and patches up minor wounds when needed. He doesn’t live with the rest of the gang and doesn’t actively participate in their business, but he’s there when they need him to be. Ushijima tells him what’s happened in not so many words. Saito gets there in twenty minutes. He finds Ushijima on the floor of the small abandoned building with Goshiki half pulled into his lap, cradling the younger’s body against his chest with a protective look in his eye.

Ushijima looks up at the older man who’s clearly holding back tears, and Ushijima feels jealous. Jealous that he can feel the grief already, jealous that he didn’t have to hear how sad Goshiki’s last words were. He holds Goshiki’s body against his chest for one moment more before carefully standing up and placing him in Saito’s arms.

“Please be careful with him,” Ushijima says, his eyes briefly fluttering up to meet Saito’s. But then his gaze quickly shifts back down to look at Goshiki’s limp form and he considers snatching him back out of Saito’s arms. Instead, he stands in place and watches Saito carry Goshiki away. It hurts to watch, but Ushijima knows he can’t bring Goshiki’s body back to the house. There was no way he could take Goshiki back like that. He couldn’t let the rest of his teammates see Goshiki’s body like that, blown open and bloodied.

Ushijima can’t even remember driving home, but when he finally pulls up to the Shiratorizawa House, he walks inside with his head down and shoulders squared. The downstairs lights are off, and usually when Ushijima comes home he’s greeted by at least a handful of his boisterous former teammates chatting or playing games or making snacks, except now it’s quiet. Upon first glance, one would assume it was a frat house, though it truly boasted one of Miyagi’s strongest gangs. But now, the house seems empty, and the air is thick. Saito must have told them all what had happened, as everyone had seemingly retreated to their rooms. No one knew how to deal with Ushijima’s limited ability to express his emotions except for Tendou, so possibly overwhelming their leader seemed too high a risk to take.

Ushijima heads straight up the stairs and into his office, not even checking to glance and make sure no one is around. He walks in but neglects to close the door behind him before grabbing a crystal glass off his desk and filling it with whiskey. The gang leader pours about half of it down his throat before collapsing onto the large couch to the right of his desk. His hands are shaking as he rests his elbows on his knees and holds his head in one hand. He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting there until a too familiar voice breaks through the silence of the house. Oh, Tendou’s home.

“Tadaima,” Tendou calls out in a cheery voice, but as soon as the word leaves his mouth, he immediately notices that something is wrong. No one is in the large living room downstairs to greet him, and all the lights appear to be off, save the one in the kitchen. He makes a beeline for the office.

Ushijima can feel Tendou’s eyes on him as soon as the redhead is standing in the doorway. Tendou’s eyes go wide in realization as he spots the large blood stain on his boyfriend’s chest. Everything pulls together in an instant: the quietness of the house, the lights being off, Ushijima slumped over on the couch with a glass of whiskey in his hand—and the Shiratorizawa leader never drinks.

Ushijima takes a deep breath, staring down at the drink in his hand. He can’t bring himself to look up when he tells Tendou without prompt, “He got caught in the crossfire.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but Tendou hears it loud and clear. The realization plays over and over in his head as if through a fog horn: “ _Goshiki is dead, Goshiki is dead, Goshiki is dead!_ ”.

The noise that rips itself from Tendou’s throat sounds inhuman. It’s blood curdling and devastating. The way Tendou howls as he doubles over is so loud, it may as well split the ground beneath him in two. His knees hit the floor first, and then his forearms, as he collapses on the ground in a lump. One hand clutches at his chest while the other pulls at his own hair. All Tendou can do is scream at the top of his lungs, shrieking as if he’s watching Goshiki’s death play out right in front of him. No words come out of his mouth, just heartbreaking feral sounds that make every member of Shiratorizawa stop dead in their tracks, frozen still even in their own bedrooms.

“No, no, no!” Tendou shouts, now pounding his clenched fists against the floor. His knuckles bleed after only a few hits, but he doesn’t stop. “ _Not before me_!” he shrieks. Ushijima watches Tendou’s heart shatter.

“Satori—” Ushijima tries to get out, but he’s stuck where he is, and the redhead can’t meet his eyes. It’s like watching a car crash in slow motion, the way Tendou’s arms flail as he screams, and Ushijima is stuck there watching it all unfold. It’s torturous.

Tendou cries louder with every slam of his fist, screaming and wailing with such force that the entire house seems to quake with the heave of his chest. Ushijima watches the love of his life fall apart on the floor in front of him, but his legs are as heavy as lead and he can’t bring himself to move. He holds his whiskey glass close and suddenly becomes very aware of the wet stickiness that is stained across his chest. the thought of taking Tendou into his arms only to cover him in their protégé’s blood makes Ushijima feel sick to his stomach.

“Where is he?” Tendou chokes out between sobs. Ushijima just stares at him, unsure of what to say. He didn’t want to bring Goshiki’s body home, he couldn’t bring himself to. He couldn’t let Tendou see what Ushijima had let happen to him, or else Ushijima feared his boyfriend may never be able to forgive him for failing to protect the aspiring ace.

“Satori…” Ushijima croaks, his boyfriend’s name barely able to escape his throat as he looks up at the redhead with glassy eyes.

Ushijima’s mind is suddenly filled with horrific images of Goshiki’s cold body laid out on their dining room table, baby face and all hidden under a white sheet that’s bloodied around his chest, with the entire team standing around him. He imagines the dramatic way Tendou would fling the sheet off and scream. He pictures Tendou cradling Goshiki’s face in his hands and begging for the younger boy to wake up, to come back to them, to come back to him. Pleading until he loses his voice. He thinks about how Goshiki’s tattoos will never be filled and how Tendou would trace the thick black lines. He imagines Tendou fixing Goshiki’s bangs just as he had earlier. Ushijima can feel how hard his heart is beating against his ribs, and he shakes his head, as if the very motion will shake the thoughts out of his brain. It doesn’t work, of course.

“Where is he?!” Tendou demands again with a shriek. He pushes himself off the floor and stares up at Ushijima with wide, watery eyes. The taller man just gapes at his boyfriend as Tendou sprints towards Goshiki’s room, running in and locking the door behind him.

Tendou feels like the walls are closing in on him, he feels suffocated, like he’s having an asthma attack. He chokes on his sobs and covers his mouth to try to stifle the noise, the sight in front of him so normal it’s unnerving. The room is left just as it would be if Goshiki was coming home. The bed is unmade, the sheets are wrinkled, and a blanket that had been stolen from the living room is balled up at the foot of the bed. There are little trinkets strewn across the desk: pencils and hair clips and colourful sticky notes. There are pictures in frames across every surface, most of them featuring team pictures, but there’s one picture on Goshiki’s nightstand that boasts a selfie of him, Tendou, and Ushijima together at the beach holding ice cream cones. Tendou picks up the photograph and clutches it so hard against his chest that he can hear the delicate wood of the frame snap beneath his grasp.

A new round of tears begin to spill down Tendou’s cheeks, and his body shakes as he sobs violently, cheeks red and chest heaving. He crawls into Goshiki’s bed and goes to burrow himself under the covers when he feels an odd lump of fabric at his side. Tendou pats around the bed and is baffled to find a stuffed animal, his stuffed animal. It’s a worn, scraggly looking thing, the possum stuffed animal that he holds in his hands. He had been gifted it when he was little, and had occasionally lent the plush toy to Goshiki when the younger boy had nightmares. So this was where his possum had gone off to, fending off whatever it could in Tendou’s absence. Too bad it couldn’t have done a better job, Tendou thinks with a weak smile. Too bad he couldn’t have done a better job.

Tendou wraps his arms around his own shoulders and hugs himself tightly. He wishes he could give Goshiki one more hug, or ruffle his hair one last time. He was supposed to get home from his solo mission and cut Goshiki’s bangs with him sitting on the sink. Tendou had cut them for Goshiki ever since their first year of high school, and they’d never have those special little moments again. He lets himself sink into the mattress as he pulls the covers up around his shoulders and buries his face in the soft fabric of the stuffed possum. He misses Goshiki so much that it hurts. His joints ache and his skin itches and his eyes burn, but he can’t move. All Tendou can do is curl in on himself, hoping that he’ll wake up and it will all have been a nightmare. He cries himself to exhaustion and time falls away, along with any semblance of it. Tendou slips in and out of sleep, crying on and off, trying to imagine how he can get up and face a world without Goshiki. He doesn’t think he can; it’s not worth it, anyways.

On the other side of the door, Ushijima sits with his legs crossed, and he still hasn’t changed. He stares at his hands in his lap, rubbing his thumb across the palm of his hand as if he can still feel the warmth of Goshiki’s skin from where he last touched him. He leans back and knocks his head against the door, baring his throat as he looks up at the ceiling. His entire being wants to believe that Goshiki is just beyond the door at his back, but he can’t pretend when he hears the inconsolable wailing coming from the other side. With every sob, it’s like he can feel his heart tearing, and yet the tears still won’t come. If anything, Ushijima feels hollow, like something has been torn out of his body. For a moment, he wishes he was the one with the real hole in his chest. He presses the heels of his hands against his eyes and wills himself to cry. He wills himself to feel something, anything other than emptiness, but his cheeks remain dry and it makes him feel even worse.


	2. Two

Tendou wakes some hours later and he finds himself wandering around Goshiki’s bedroom like he’s lost until across the floor he spots a familiar article of clothing out of the corner of his eye. It’s a purple and white Shiratorizawa track jacket. He picks up the garment as if on instinct and holds it up to inspect it. It's Ushijima’s old volleyball track jacket that he had gifted to Goshiki when he and Tendou graduated. Goshiki wore the jacket with pride nearly every day once he received it, and even after having graduated himself, wore it more often than his own. 

Tendou runs his hands over the soft fabric, thumbs catching on especially worn areas that are almost paper thin now. It still smells like detergent, but Tendou has always associated the soft smell of clean clothes with his favourite kouhai. Without thinking, Tendou pulls the jacket over himself, sliding his arms into the sleeves and zipping it up. For a moment, it feels just like getting into uniform before a game. He imagines standing tall on the court with Ushijima and Goshiki on either side of him, but he is brought back to reality when he senses how awkwardly the garment hangs on his body. The sleeves are too long and the shoulders are too wide and the number is wrong and he remembers that he’s not supposed to be the one wearing this jacket, even if it did used to belong to his boyfriend, and yet Tendou can’t bring himself to take it off. The feeling is so strange, like visiting your childhood home that’s been occupied by a different family. 

On the other side of the door, Ushijima winces as he hears Tendou’s soft crying start up again. It was devastating watching him scream out for Goshiki, their young ace that they had taken under their wings and nurtured and loved. Ushijima knocks his head back against the door a few times as his brow furrows at the memory. The blood on his chest has dried and crusted over, making his skin itchy, but he can’t bring himself to remove his shirt. Instead he sits there, an unmoving lump propped up against the door. He’s only moved to go to the washroom and get water, not leaving for more than five minutes at a time. He’s terrified of the idea of leaving Tendou by himself. 

Ushijima doesn’t really sleep, but rather drifts in and out of consciousness, only stirred by the sound of Tendou’s on and off crying on the other side of the door. He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting there, maybe hours, maybe days. He isn’t fully awake for any of it until he eventually hears soft footsteps approaching him. He looks up tentatively to find Reon coming out of his room just down the hall. Their eyes meet for a brief moment before Ushijima looks away and back at his hands that still have Goshiki’s blood on them. He is vaguely aware of Reon walking up and down the halls, gently knocking on the doors of the other Shiratorizawa members and checking in on them, but Ushijima can’t bring himself to listen. Ushijima feels ashamed at the soft and understanding look that Reon had given him. It makes guilt rise in his throat. He was their leader, he was supposed to keep them all safe, and he failed. It’s a heavy weight on Ushijima’s chest and it hurts. 

But then there’s a stack of clean clothes being dropped by his feet and Ushijima snaps back into reality. “Here,” Reon says gently. 

Ushijima nods his thanks and Reon nods back in understanding. They don’t exchange words past that. Ushijima pulls himself off the floor. His whole body aches from sitting in the same position for who knows how long. He saunters towards his and Tendou’s ensuite washroom and goes through the motions of getting undressed to shower without thought until he’s down to nothing but the bloodied dress shirt. He plucks up the courage to look at his reflection in the mirror and is immediately drawn to the dried red stain over his chest and stomach. He touches the fabric gingerly before looking at his reflection a moment longer. He unbuttons the shirt with care and folds it neatly, laying it out on the sink counter while he kicks the rest of his clothes into a pile by the door. 

Stepping under the hot spray of the shower doesn’t bring its usual relief to Ushijima’s aching muscles, and instead, he feels stiffer than before. He washes his hair and his body, lathering himself in soap more than once even though some sick part of his brain is telling him not to wash off what little is left of Goshiki from his skin. He reminds himself that Goshiki is gone and stands still under the water until it runs cold; only then does he get out and towel off. 

Ushijima pulls on the clothes Reon had given to him, a pair of soft grey sweatpants and a comfortable t-shirt. The Shiratorizawa leader pushes his damp hair back and glances down at the sink. His folded and stained shirt is still sitting there, and Ushijima stares at it for a long time before he can finally unstick his feet and walk out of the washroom. He leaves the shirt on the counter by the sink, like it’s too heavy to pick up again. 

Ushijima situates himself in front of the door once again, essentially keeping guard of Tendou as he greives. He also just doesn’t know where else to go. The thought of crawling into his own bed without Tendou feels off-putting, and he doesn’t want to leave Tendou alone, even if there’s a literal wall between them. It’s quiet when Ushijima sits back down; Tendou must still be asleep. He lets himself doze against the door, sitting cross legged with his back held straight. Then, suddenly, the cool hardness of the door is gone and Ushijima falls back, knocking into a pair of slim legs. Tendou towers over him. There are bags under his red eyes and a gauntness to his face that makes Ushijima’s stomach turn. 

Ushijima scrambles to his feet awkwardly and his eyes immediately fall to Tendou’s shoulders, covered in purple and white. Ushijima recognizes the garment in an instant; it used to belong to him, after all. He wraps an arm around Tendou’s waist and pulls his boyfriend into a bone-crushing hug. His other hand finds purchase in the worn fabric of his old track jacket. His fingers twist into it like he’s afraid it will slip right out of his grasp along with Tendou, just like Goshiki had. He missed Tendou so much, he misses Goshiki so much, and suddenly it’s all too much and overwhelming as the pain of what he’s lost sets in. He presses his face into the junction of Tendou’s neck and shoulder, and only then does he begin to cry. 

The day Ushijima handed over the title of ace over to Goshiki is one he’ll never forget. At the end of the last official volleyball practice of his high school career, Ushijima had been tasked with addressing the team. He had looked on proudly as Goshiki promised to do right by the team with tears threatening to spill from his eyes at any moment. At the end of practice, Ushijima had pulled the rising second year aside and quietly offered up his Shiratorizawa track jacket. Goshiki had hesitated, holding his hand out over the garment as he stared up at Ushijima with wide, watery eyes before dissolving into a fit of tears, babbling his thanks as he clutched the jacket to his chest. 

Ushijima remembers how Goshiki pulled the jacket on and had zipped it up with determination, trying his best to put on a brave face despite the still-flowing tears. Ushijima’s clothes fit Goshiki the way that his clothes fit Tendou, just a little too long and a lot too wide. It was almost comical how large the shoulders were on the jacket, but it didn’t seem to phase Goshiki in the slightest. Instead, he had grinned so widely that his dimples showed, soft cheeks flushed pink and strained from smiling. Ushijima and Tendou had taken him out to get ice cream that night, and Goshiku had insisted that he would be extra careful and not spill so that he could keep his new jacket on. The memory causes more tears to well up in Ushijima’s eyes, and he can’t help but wish he could relive that day over and over again. How easy and simple things were back then. 

Ushijima is not a loud or violent crier like his boyfriend. Instead, he cries in near silence while his shoulders shake, and Tendou clings to him with the matched fervour that Ushijima clings to Tendou with. Ushijima lets himself sink into Tendou, finally able to release all the emotions that have been churning inside of him. He pushes his face against Tendou’s warm skin and lets himself go and the tears just won’t stop. How many times had he seen Goshiki cling to Tendou in this exact fashion? Too many to even count. He thinks about Goshiki falling asleep between them on long bus rides, and leaning into Tendou’s touch when he cut Goshiki’s hair. He thinks about the three of them packed together on the bottom bunk, reading shonen jump after dinner. He thinks about how Tendou will never again get to hold their protégé like how he’s holding Ushijima, and guilt sinks to the bottom of his stomach like a rock. It feels like he’s killed their own child. 

Tendou rubs soft circles across his boyfriend’s back wordlessly as he finally guides Ushijima inside the bedroom after an unknown amount of time passes. Ushijima lets himself be guided to lay on the bed, taking the side closest to the door while Tendou takes the one closest to the window, just like how they sleep in their own bed. It’s a little cramped, because Goshiki’s bed is a double and theirs is a king, but they’re pressed close together and the sheets still smell like Goshiki. Their knees knock together and so do their foreheads. Tendou’s breathing is uneven, and Ushijima’s worries that the redhead will start crying again when he produces the familiar squishy possum plush between their chests. Tendou runs a hand over the well loved fur of the stuffed animal as he nestles it between the two of them. 

Tendou feels like his chest is about to cave in at any moment. His eyes burn from the salt of his tears, and his throat feels hoarse and sore. He doesn’t know how much time has passed, unable to tell if he’s been in Goshiki’s room for hours or days. It’s all a blur, it doesn’t feel like it’s worth getting up. It’s like the sun’s gone out in Tendou’s sky. He grabs a hold of Ushijima’s shirt, burying his face in his boyfriend’s chest and cries.

In the smallest voice, Tendou says, “I promised I’d come home to him, but he didn’t come home to me.” 

Ushijima just clings to him tightly; he doesn’t know how many more times he can stand to watch Tendou’s heart break. Silent tears slip down Ushijima’s cheeks as he presses flush against his boyfriend’s body. He can’t lose anyone else, especially not Tendou. Ushijima shifts and buries his face in the warmth of Tendou’s neck, now allowing Tendou to hold him. Tendou wraps an arm around Ushijima’s shoulders and his other hand finds purchase in the taller man’s hair. Tendou runs a gentle hand across the crown of Ushijima’s head as they both cling to one another. Tendou tries his best to stifle his loud sobs, and Ushijima cries quietly. He feels small and vulnerable. Ushijima feels his resolve fizzle away as guilt wells up in his chest. He feels like he’s done this to Tendou, like it’s his fault that their Goshiki is gone. He wishes he had been more careful, more attentive, that he had just noticed something. The guilt makes him feel exposed and undeserving of the way Tendou envelops him in his arms. Ushijima wishes that it were Goshiki curled up with Tendou instead of him.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features some incredible art by my wonderful and very talented friend, @hands-on-my-eyes on tumblr (check her stuff out, she's also the one this fic is gifted too!) 
> 
> https://hands-on-my-eyes.tumblr.com/image/622038181042388992

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes pretty graphic descriptions of violence so please proceed with caution.

There’s no finesse to the way Ushijima breaks into the headquarters of Wakutani South. He shoots through the deadbolt on the front door and pushes it in with a hard shove of his shoulder. The gang is small, only boasting a few members who all seem caught off guard by the sudden intrusion. They’re scattered casually around the main room, on couches and sprawled on the floor. Ushijima pulls his gun from behind his back and shoots into the ceiling.

“Against the wall, now!’ he shouts. All of their eyes go wide, surely having heard of Shiratorizawa’s silence over the past two weeks. They had thought that maybe they really had shot Ushijima in the chaos, but they couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Ushijima, Ushijima, we can talk this out okay, I’m sorry about last time-” Nakashima sputtered with his arms raised.

“How long have our teams worked alongside one another? And you go and betray me?” Ushijima grits, his eyes constantly shifting between the six rival gang members in front of them. Each stare at him with wide, fear-blown eyes. They had most definitely not been expecting him after so many days of silence.

“You,” Ushijima’s eyes narrow as they zero in on Naruko, the one who shot Goshiki when Nakashima ordered him to take out Ushijima. The brunet jerks back with a yelp and throws his hands up in front of his face as if expecting to be pistol whipped.

“No!” Nakashima yells, putting himself between Ushijima and Naruko, “he was just following orders, this is my fault.” He stands almost half a foot shorter than Ushijima and isn’t nearly as broad. His wide, brown eyes make Ushijima flinch, but then he cocks his gun and shoots Wakutani South’s leader between the eyes without hesitation. Blood and tissue spray as Nakashima’s body slumps to the floor unceremoniously. There’s a chorus of gasps, but Ushijima’s unfazed. Instead, he shoots another round into the dead leader’s shattered skull.

“I said against the wall,” he growls. The other members cower, having just seen their leader put down like a sick dog. They stare at one another with open mouths, unsure of what to do. “Hands on the wall,” Ushijima orders. There’s no room for negotiation in his tone.

“Except you,” he says, gesturing towards Naruko with his gun. Ushijima grabs the brunet by the back of his shirt and wraps an arm around the man’s throat in an instant, pulling him into a pseudo headlock. “You watch.” Naruko gulps audibly and doesn’t move, petrified still with fear.

The remaining members of Wakutani South line up with their hands on the wall. Another one, Kawatabi, speaks up meekly.

“Please, Ushijima, you don’t have to do this-”

Ushijima shoots him through the back of the head before he can finish his plea. Another one of the members screams and then Ushijima’s firing rounds into each of them, shooting point blank into each of their skulls. Blood splatters across his face and hands, but Ushijima doesn’t even flinch. He keeps Naruko in place by his side, forcing the underling member to watch his seniors die. Rationally, Ushijima knows it’s cruel, but he can’t find it in him to care. He doesn’t feel pity for the man who killed Goshiki by blindly following orders.

When the final body hits the floor, Ushijima drops his gun to the floor and whips Naruko around, holding the last member of Wakutani South up by his collar. The man’s eyes are blown wide open and his jaw is trembling.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please,” Naruko pleads as Ushijima holds him up in the air by his collar, wiggling like a hooked fish.

“When your leader tried to kill me and told you to draw your gun, you shot someone else instead,” Ushijima spits out bitterly.

“I know—I was just following orders,” Naruko confesses, and Ushijima’s eyes narrow. “That kid? Is he dead?” He gasps with only partial recognition in his eyes.

“You took everything from me and you didn’t even know his name,” Ushijima growls, throwing Naruko against the wall. He hits it with a hard slam before sliding down to the floor next to the crumpled bodies of his fellow gang members.

Ushijima stalks over and stands intimidatingly tall over him, one foot on either side of Naruko’s slim torso. Ushijima looks like a man possessed, with wild eyes and lips curled up in a snarl. He grabs him by the collar once again, but this time only with one hand. Ushijima pulls his other fist back and swings it, punching Naruko so hard in the jaw that he almost loses his grip on the man. Naruko coughs out blood and a tooth but Ushijima just pulls back and hits him again, and again and again and again until the bastard’s cheek is split and most of his front teeth have taken up residency on the floor.

The man manages out a pathetic “please,” but it only makes Ushijima feel more enraged. He is begging for his life like a coward after taking Goshiki’s without so much as a second thought, and that’s what truly sends Ushijima off the rails.

“His name... was Goshiki!” Ushijima yells in the man’s face as he pushes him to the ground. Ushijima presses a knee into Naruko’s chest as he wraps his large hands around the man’s slim neck.

“He was like my _son_!” The ace grits out as he digs his thumbs into the man’s trachea. “You stole him from me, you stole him from _Tendou_!”

Ushijima squeezes and squeezes as he feels the man’s body thrash beneath him, but he’s set on watching the last bit of life drain out of the bastard’s face. He can feel the tendons and muscle moving beneath his grasp, but it only spurs him on as he wrings the man’s neck tightly. Naruko sputters and kicks and tries to beg for mercy with choked words, but Ushijima doesn’t stop, he can’t stop.

All he can see is Goshiki’s round pink cheeks and his fiery brown eyes and that childish but endearing bowl cut that Tendou always ruffled after an especially good spike. He replays the afternoon he gave Goshiki his track jacket as he forces the life out of his kouhai’s murderer. His eyes may as well be closed because he doesn’t even recognize the man’s face anymore. All he can see is the way Goshiki beamed when Ushijima draped his jacket around the next ace’s shoulders for the first time. Ushijima squeezes even harder.

It’s not until well after the man has turned blue and gone limp that Ushijima finally releases his grasp on his throat. There are red purple marks forming from where Ushijima’s fingers squeezed in on his windpipe. Ushijima waits for a wave of satisfaction to wash over him as he kneels on top of the dead man’s chest, but it never comes, because nothing, not even this, will bring Goshiki back.

Out of frustration Ushijima brings his fist down one more time with a sickening crack as he makes contact with the dead man’s jaw. He can feel the bone splitting beneath his knuckles but it doesn’t phase him, Goshiki’s last words play so loudly in his head that Ushijima doesn’t even recognize the awful crunch. All he can hear is “I’m sorry I couldn't be a good enough ace,” and it hurts so badly knowing that Goshiki spent his last moments thinking he wasn’t enough which is incredibly cruel because in reality it was the exact opposite.

Ushijima knew that, Tendou knew that, all of Shiratorizawa knew that. Goshiki was bright and cunning and enthusiastic and driven. When he set his mind to something, he always accomplished it, no matter how hard it was or how long it took. That was what made Goshiki an ace: his innate, unwavering determination. A frustrated growl forms at the back of Ushijima’s throat as he thinks about all the potential this lowlife stole from Goshiki, but truly, Ushijima sees the man as nothing more than the final domino of his own mistakes. Ushijima felt like he had given Goshiki’s life up on a silver platter to the man who now lay dead beneath him.

He glances around the room; there is now a total of six bodies laying at his feet. There’s blood splattered across the far wall where Ushijima lined the others up and shot them execution style. Not one member of Wakutani South is left alive. Ushijima leaves Naruko’s body in the middle of the floor, his neck mangled and skin blue. Naruko looks like a bottle of toothpaste that someone squeezed too hard and Shiratorizawa’s leader feels empty again. The fleeting rush of adrenaline is now gone and an uncomfortable numbness settles itself in his bones as he takes in deep, shaky breaths. He doesn’t even feel better, and now there’s so much blood on his hands. For a second he thinks he’s about to be sick.

Ushijima had never been one for unnecessary violence, and yet he had just killed six people in less than an hour. He didn’t even feel remorse for taking their lives, but rather felt immensely guilty for going against the values he had been trying to instill in Goshiki, that one does not lose themselves to the life they led and yet, he had just strangled a pleading man to death. He would never have wanted to set this kind of example for Goshiki. Rationally Ushijima knew he wasn’t acting how the leader of Shiratorizawa should, and yet he couldn’t stop himself. There was no example to set now, no Goshiki standing just behind his shoulder, no one waiting over eagerly to fill his shoes. What was the point without Goshiki?

When Ushijima gets home the entire team, save for Tendou of course, whips their heads around as the front door slams open. None of them could have been prepared for the sight before them, their leader drenched in blood. They had all assumed the former ace was upstairs, still holed away with Tendou in Goshiki’s bedroom like they had been for the last few days. But instead Ushijima is standing in the doorway with blood splattered across his face and soaked into his clothes. Their leader is notorious for not getting his hands dirty, but clearly something’s changed.

Ushijima’s jaw is set hard and his eyes are focused on the ground. A deafening silence falls over the entire house. The soft whispers of “has anyone seen Tendou eat?” And “who’s going to tell Koganegawa?” vanish from the room. The rest of Shiratorizawa had gathered in the living room in an attempt to figure out what to do next and had thought that their leader was still upstairs so the sight of a blood soaked Ushijima walking through the front door was nothing short of shocking.

The former wing spiker toes off his shoes as if it is just another day and walks right past the rest of Shiratorizawa without so much as a glance. If he had looked up, he would have seen the pained and contorted expressions on all of their faces, but instead, his eyes trail the floor right in front of his feet as he walks upstairs. He shuffles quietly into his and Tendou’s shared bedroom to shower. The men that remain downstairs wait with bated breath until they finally hear the faint pitter-patter of the shower being turned on, and the fear that had gripped their chests dissipates.

An awkwardness falls over those that remain downstairs. Reon shakes his head. Semi chews at his lower lip and runs a shaky hand through his hair. Shirabu just stares at the floor with his mouth agape. Taichi and Yamagata exchange worried glances. No one says a word.

Many, if not all, of Shiratorizawa had idolized Ushijima to some degree before. He’s strong and steadfast, a capable leader and level-headed despite his trouble with social nuisances. But they’ve never felt intimidated by him before: Ushijima is a team player who doesn’t put others down in an effort to build himself up. He’s always been very adamant that if you work hard enough for something, you will get it, and that nothing is truly unattainable.

Ushijima holds fast to his beliefs and knows what he wants to accomplish while remaining level-headed about it. He’s not quick to violence like some of the other gang leaders they dealt with. He favoured negotiation and hardly ever resorted to violence, unlike some of the other gang leaders they dealt with. And so, the almost entirety of Shiratorizawa watches in disbelief as Ushijima walks through their front door looking like he had just visited a slaughterhouse.

Semi’s the first to move. He walks out the front door with a mumbled reason, saying that he needs to be alone. Shirabu watches Semi leave, and as soon as the door slams shut, he storms off. Reon turns and offers a sympathetic look to Taichi and Yamagata, who are still sitting together on the couch. Taichi’s chin quivers and he turns away, hiding the tears that well up in his eyes from Reon, who has become the impromptu leader. Yamagata claps Taichi on the back and Reon nods; they’ll be alright. Everything will be alright eventually; at least, that’s what they’re all hoping for.

When Ushijima gets out of the shower, he makes a beeline for Goshiki’s room. He’s proven right in his assumption that he would find Tendou there. It looks like his boyfriend hasn’t moved an inch since he left, and he probably hadn’t. He finds Tendou just as he left him, curled in on himself, huddled under the covers of Goshiki’s bed. The redhead’s hair has slipped out of the little ponytail he usually wears now that he’s grown it out since graduation. The bags under his eyes are dark and puffy, and his cheeks are pink and irritated from the salt of many tears he’d shed.

Ushijima climbs into bed carefully; Tendou still seems to be asleep, and he doesn’t want to wake him. He doesn’t feel like talking anyways, not that Tendou has been engaging in any coherent conversation lately. But he’s still startled when he hears a low sigh followed by Tendou asking meekly, “Where’d you go?”

Ushijima hesitates for a moment before he replies, taking the time to wrap an arm around the redhead’s waist. “I just had to take care of something. Don’t worry about it, go back to sleep.” It’s not a lie, exactly, but he doesn’t want to burden Tendou with the details. It would probably be too much for him to handle with the state he’s been in the last few days.

Tendou takes a deep breath, appreciating the sturdy warmth of his boyfriend’s chest against his back. Ushijima nuzzles his face against the back of Tendou’s neck and pulls him in close. He holds Tendou so tightly that it’s almost painful, but Tendou welcomes the touch. It makes him feel less like he’s on the verge of slipping down through the mattress into nothingness. It’s reaffirming and safe to be held like that by Ushijima, and he doesn’t take it for granted. Tendou wiggles his fingers between Ushijima’s so that their fingers are interlinked. Ushijima’s first instinct is to pull away. Only a few hours ago his hands had squeezed the life out of another man, and now Tendou was holding his hand like he was something precious. He swallows and forces himself to stay in place as Tendou gently rubs his thumb over Ushijima’s knuckles.

“Your hands are shaking,” Tendou says casually, like he’s talking about the weather. Ushijima just hums in reply, afraid that one wrong word and Tendou will know what he’s done. So instead, Ushijima allows Tendou to hold his hand, even though he feels like he doesn’t deserve it.


	4. Four

It takes a few weeks for Shiratorizawa to get back on its feet. They’ve all changed, but there’s some semblance of normalcy once the gang goes on a mission as a whole again: a relatively large arms deal with Johzenji, no casualties. But in the time that Shiratorizawa went silent, word had gotten out about what happened to Goshiki, and in turn what happened to Wakutani South. The other gangs—Karasuno, Nekoma, Aoba Johsai and more—had heard through the grapevine about Wakutani South’s betrayal against Ushijima. Suga of Karasuno was told about Goshiki being shot when Nakashima reached out, desperate for some support. Suga had turned them away, believing that whatever Wakutani South had coming would be well deserved.

What none of the other gangs expected was the single-man massacre that occurred only a few days after the unexplained silence of Shiratorizawa. When there was no word of Wakutani South for days, word finally got out that not only had Ushijima sought revenge on the underling that killed Goshiki, but he had taken out the entire gang by himself. Rumors circulated, describing Ushijima as a man gone rogue, no one able to believe that the usually stoic and reasonable Ushijima could kill six people at once. It struck fear in the other large gangs, and made them weary of Shiratorizawa and it’s leader.

Shiratorizawa goes on its first full team mission four weeks after Goshiki’s death, except it’s not really a full team mission because Tendou stays home. They all come back unscathed, much to Ushijima’s relief. What they hadn’t been expecting upon their return home was a kitchen counter littered with cartons of ice cream containers. It serves to provide relief for a moment, some semblance of normalcy until they notice a small pint of ice cream on the counter, containing a flavor that only Goshiki liked. Most of Shiratorizawa prefers simple and popular flavors like chocolate or cookie dough or strawberry, but Tendou always made sure to keep a little carton of black cherry vanilla in the freezer just for Goshiki.

Most of the members know better than to question Tendou about the out of place ice cream, treading warily around it as they get their own bowls. There’s a thick tension that fills the kitchen that’s only cut once Shirabu clears his throat.

“Why is that out?” He asks with a certain amount of venom in his voice, but it’s only there because the former setter doesn’t know how to vocalize his feelings without expressing aggression. His eyes narrow into a glare as the quiet room drops into silence.

Tendou stares down at the bowl of black cherry ice cream in his hands and only hesitates for half a moment before he goes to set it down at Goshiki’s usual spot at the large dining table. “It’s for-” he breaths, but doesn’t finish the sentence. Tendou takes a seat at the table and the rest of Shiratorizawa follows. Ushijima always sits at the head with Tendou to his right and Goshiki next to Tendou, but now there’s an empty spot. Shirabu rounds the table and moves to pick up the bowl of black cherry vanilla ice cream, but Reon shoots him a look and he backs off, meekly walking back to his own seat. The rest of them all keep their eyes down, afraid of the painful expression that is sure to have settled on Tendou’s face.

The volleyball team turned gang eats their celebratory ice cream in silence. There aren’t words to be said anyways. The mission they had just completed was relatively low risk, an arms deal with Johzenji. Money had been exchanged for goods and nothing more. No other gang had yet to approach Shiratorizawa once they had learned what Ushijima had done to Wakutani South. A solemness hangs over the table like a dark cloud that threatens to release its stormy contents at any second. Ushijima sits at the head of the table and eats his ice cream quietly, glancing to his right every so often to sneak a look at Tendou, who’s barely brought the spoon to his mouth. Chocolate ice cream is usually exempt from the redhead’s peckish appetite.

It was a Shiratorizawa tradition to eat ice cream together after a successful mission. It started back when they were all still in high school, and it had just stuck. It was Tendou’s suggestion, of course, seeing as chocolate ice cream was the redhead’s favourite food and he could most certainly eat his weight in it if he wanted to. They had won a game, just a practice game but it was Tendou’s first match he and Ushijima played together in their first year. The next time they won a game, they got ice cream with Reon. And the game after that, they brought Semi and Yamagata along, too. Since then, Shiratorizawa’s way of welcoming new first year players was to take them out to ice cream after their first match with the team, and special trips were made for victories, too. Ice cream after missions seemed like a natural progression of their tradition, a celebration of surviving another day together, whether that be on the court or on the streets.

But things are different now—without Goshiki. Tendou doesn’t go on missions anymore. Even if he could bring himself to, Ushijima wouldn’t let him. He had always been a protective person, and he had trusted that his teammates could take care of themselves, but that was before. Ushijima can no longer trust himself to call the shots, afraid that he’ll make a mistake and put another member in danger. Instead, he relinquishes himself to be the force that carries out missions with little regard for his own safety, while putting the responsibility of decision making into Tendou’s hands. It’s a lot, but planning missions and holding negotiation meetings gives Tendou some semblance of control back.

But even so, it still hurts. There are nights that Ushijima wakes up in bed alone, only to find that Tendou has slunk next door into Goshiki’s room and curled himself under the purple covers as if he were hiding from a monster. There are nights that Tendou doesn’t sleep or can’t stop crying or both, and no matter how quiet he tries to be, Ushijima always wakes up. Ushijima’s hands still shake, a slight tremor that only Tendou notices. Ushijima’s shoulders jump whenever he comes home and can’t find Tendou right away, even if the redhead’s just in the shower. Ushijima hovers around the others any time Saito patches up wounds. They both ache and it’s not easy.

Overall, the house has become a lot quieter, and it no longer really feels like a home in the same way that it once did. The Shiratorizawa household feels less like the stronghold of a gang and more like just another occupied building. Team dinners are quiet, but at least there’s a little bit of talking now—but it’s never about the empty spot at the table. There hasn’t been another movie night, and Ushijima still won’t let Tendou go on missions, not that Tendou is really capable of leaving the house to do anything more than grocery shop. Even that’s a challenge. He still buys black cherry vanilla ice cream. He still sets a place for Goshiki at the table every time they all sit together, and Reon is always the one who cleans it up afterwards. No one says anything about it. On days that he can get out of bed, Tendou busies himself with things to do around the house. He does laundry and washes Goshiki’s clothes despite the fact that they haven’t been worn recently and won’t ever be worn again, but the repetitiveness of the act is somewhat comforting.

Tendou finds a list one day while he is doing laundry, folded up and shoved in the back of one of Goshiki’s dresser drawers. The paper is slightly yellowed with age, and the ink is a little blown out but still legible. Scrawled across the top is messy handwriting that says “bucket list”. The list isn’t too long, only about eight lines are written.

-g ~~o to Nationals~~  
-learn to skateboard  
-k ~~eep a plant alive for at least one year~~  
-h ~~ave a New Years Eve kiss~~  
-go rock climbing  
-swim in every major ocean  
-get tattoos filled in with colour

At the very bottom, the last line is circled twice and marked with a star: ‘make Tendou and Ushijima proud’.

Tendou flips the paper over because for an instant he’s convinced that there will be something else, but there isn’t of course. Goshiki hadn’t left the list with the intent for someone to find it. Tendou presses the piece of paper close to his chest and slumps down to the floor. He reads it over and over again, taking note of which lines were crossed off and which had not yet been fulfilled. It serves only as a reminder that Goshiki had so much left ahead of him and it tugs at Tendou’s heart strings. It isn’t fair. Goshiki was supposed to be the one mourning him when they were old and wrinkled. Tendou and Ushijima weren’t supposed to bury Goshiki. It just isn’t fair. They chose this life and Tendou knows that, but that still doesn’t make it fair.

Tendou marches downstairs with a serious look of determination on his face and tapes the list to the refrigerator with satisfaction. He takes a step back and looks at the list fondly even though it makes his heart ache. Ushijima finds Tendou still standing in front of the refrigerator a few minutes later. The redhead’s eyes are a bit glassy, but there’s a slight smile on his face. Ushijima slips his arms around his boyfriend’s waist and rests his chin on Tendou’s shoulder. He feels his own eyes begin to prickle with hot tears once he realizes what Tendou has been staring at.

“He wasn’t supposed to go before us,” Tendou says, his voice a little choked.

Ushijima nods. “I miss him too.” He grabs a stray pen off the kitchen counter and strikes a line through the last point on the list; Goshiki had always made him and Tendou proud.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Sugawara is Always Worried, but It's Always Justified](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24768061) by [marsenthusiast](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marsenthusiast/pseuds/marsenthusiast)




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